


Krampus

by SML8180



Series: Ego Christmas 2019 [15]
Category: Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: 25 Days of Ego Christmas 2019, How Do I Tag, Krampus - Freeform, Legends, Story within a Story, This gets kinda rough, just as a heads up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:08:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21807970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SML8180/pseuds/SML8180
Summary: The Author is in the middle of his transition into the Host, and is finally starting to try to be around the other Egos. Despite their anxiety around the once sadistic man, the Twins and King decide to give him a chance, and ask for him to tell them a story.
Series: Ego Christmas 2019 [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559551
Comments: 1
Kudos: 31





	Krampus

**Author's Note:**

> Just as a quick heads up, this story gets kinda dark, but it's nothing compared to the source material. The Krampus legend is pretty dark, in general.
> 
> Also, as someone from the United States, in a family that doesn't really tell stories like this in general, I had only ever heard "Krampus" in passing, so I had to do some research for this one. This story was heavily inspired by the Extra Credits video that is out on the subject, and if you want something that's out together a little better and a little more in depth, I suggest you go check that video out, as it really helped me while writing this.

The Author - well, not the Author, he’d stopped going by that name; he was currently going by Host, though he was still uncertain if that would be his name in the future, at least it worked for the time being - sat in the living area of the manor, curled up under a blanket as he sat in one of the large, plush armchairs in the room. He was still adjusting to life in the manor, having always lived away from it. The others were still getting used to him as well; he was no longer the man they’d originally known, after all.

The Host was sitting in silence, simply enjoying the quiet that surrounded him. He heard the sound of quiet humming and footsteps, signaling that someone had entered the room. His head turned towards the sound, though he didn’t say anything. Soon, there was the sound of more footsteps, two more sets by the sound of it.

“Um, Host?” a voice addressed. The man speaking sounded like King, if Host remembered correctly.

“Yes?” Host replied, tilting his head a bit in curiosity.

“The twins and I were wondering…” King still sounded hesitant as he spoke to Host; still uncertain of him. “Um… We were wondering, if you’d tell us a story?”

“A story?” the Host was taken by surprise, and it was clear in his voice.

“Yeah!” one of the twins - Host had no way to tell which one - exclaimed.

“You said you were a best-selling author, you must have a lot of stories to tell!” the second twin cut in.

“Well… The Host, er, I suppose that can be arranged.” Speaking in first person was becoming odd to Host; it felt strange,  _ uncomfortable  _ at the best of times, as if it were foreign to him. His mind and mouth wanted to slip into third person constantly, but he resisted, too self conscious of the changes he was already undergoing to add yet  _ another  _ change to the pile.

The Host chuckled at the excited claps that came from the three men. He could hear them settle in, pulling some pillows off the sofa and sitting on the floor in front of him. The man took a moment to think of a story, though he found that he had few ideas of his own at the moment; he’d been so disoriented and frankly  _ exhausted  _ since the day Dr. Iplier had brought him to the manor that he really hadn’t had the time or energy to come up with any new ideas. After a few moments of thought, he finally remembered a story he’d been told years prior.

“The woods surrounding the manor do remind me of a story I was told as a child,” the Host began. “It’s more of a legend, I suppose, of the half-goat, half-demon counterpart to Saint Nicholas; Krampus.”

“Krampus?” questioned two voices, most likely the twins.

“Yes,” the Host confirmed. “Krampus emerged in the Alps, and is known throughout Germany, Austria, and northern Italy, but is not from any one country, himself; the mountains themselves are said to have given birth to him,” Host stated, shifting in his seat as he spoke so that he was sitting up properly and facing his small audience. “He would come with Saint Nicholas on Krampus Nacht, and often, he wouldn’t be alone; Nicholas is said to have traveled with up to six Krampus. Nicholas, as many know, would reward children who had been good over the year, listening to their parents and learning their prayers. Krampus, however, was there for the children who had not been so well behaved.”

“What did he do?” King questioned, sounding equal parts curious and frightened.

“That would depend on just how disobedient the child had been,” the Host replied. “Krampus is rumored to beat children with his bundle of birches or his horse-tail whip if they had been disrespectful and hadn’t studied their prayers. Sometimes, he wouldn’t be the one to punish the children at all. If you were one deemed unworthy of a gift from Nicholas, Krampus may gift your parents a bundle of birch twigs to hang over the fireplace and use as they saw fit.” The Host paused, giving a low, short chuckle, “And those would be in the case of the  _ lucky  _ children.”

“ _ That  _ was if you were  _ lucky _ ?” one of the twins questioned, sounding shocked.

“Yes. The unlucky ones, he takes in his great sack, and nobody knows what becomes of those children. He may drown them in icy rivers, devour them, or possibly even send them straight to Hell.”

“This  _ is  _ just a legend, right?” King questioned. “You can’t possibly have us believe this is real.”

“You have the right to believe what you want,” the Host told him. “But, know that some claim to have seen Krampus at village runs, lashing people with their whips. At Krampus runs, some children will be bold, pushing to the front of the crowd, in an attempt to prove that they were not afraid. To prove that they could reach out and  _ touch  _ the devil’s fur, a test of bravery and rite of passage. They  _ know  _ that Krampus  _ must  _ be real, for you cannot simply reach out and  _ touch  _ a mere legend.” The blind man couldn’t help but chuckle, knowing that the three men sitting before him shuddered at the thought.

“Alright, I think that’s enough,” came a new voice. This one, the Host could identify right away; Dr. Iplier. “Don’t scare the hell out of them, Host; they’ll just get nightmares and keep the rest of us up all night.”

“They  _ did  _ ask for a story, Doctor.”

“Yeah, well, story’s over. We need to get you to my office, anyways; your bandages need to be changed.”


End file.
